The Music of Seashells


Driving through the busy streets,
racing the pine trees,
soaking in the rays of sunlight,
glancing by the leaves.

To find chaos amidst the hustle,
I must go on;
like waves whirling by,
leaving the shore behind.

Here I am on the sandy cushion,
to get a whiff of the ocean smell,
to be carried in the world of ecstasy
by the music of seashells.

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